


Alone By His Side

by celestialenigma



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moving On, germano, nobody dies during the story, previous major character death, previous prumano
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialenigma/pseuds/celestialenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all love is requited and not all relationships last forever. The love of Lovino's life died thirteen years ago, while the love of Ludwig's life just introduced his girlfriend. Suddenly, a grumpy Italian and a stoic German are all each other have for company. - Germano, Nation-Verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so I've been working on this on and off for a while. This will have some similar themes of loss of a loved one that my previous fic 'Fate is Never Wrong' did. That is because it was through writing this that I got the idea for that story. However I love this too much to let it go and there is not nearly enough Germano in the world. So there may be one or two scenes that seem familiar in this story. I hope to make them different enough that it won't matter. It will also help that this fic is nation-verse and not at all related to omega-verse.
> 
> Updates for this will be slow because I'm working on 'Illicit Fate' and some Tumblr Secret Santa stuff. But I will finish this story :D

The sun had barely risen in the early morning sky, painting Ludwig's kitchen in a dim orange hue. There was just enough light for him to begin his day and not worry about wasting energy. 

First was the coffee, of which he started half a pot. Then he pulled out a bowl of dough that he had set to rising in the refrigerator. He placed the ball into a loaf pan and spread it out evenly, then sticking it into the oven. 

Once he wiped down all of the surfaces that the dough had been near, he brought out some sausages. He set them to cook gently in a pot of water. 

Briefly, he wondered if he should go wake up Gilbert before he grimaced. Ludwig closed his eyes tight and remembered that wouldn't be possible.

He once again wiped down all of the surfaces, set the used dishes into the dishwasher to be cleaned after breakfast and then looked around the room with a stoic satisfaction.

Hearing a soft thump outside against the porch, Ludwig made his way to the front door.

He didn't get all the way to the door before he saw it. Brown Italian loafers placed upon Ludwig's shoe rack. Not Feliciano's for certain. The Northern-most personification of Italy would have left his shoes wherever he removed them, possibly flinging them somewhere in the process.

So no, the neatly placed shoes would belong to only one other person.

Really, Ludwig wasn't surprised that Lovino Vargas was, once again, in his home. The keys that the Italian had to the door were hung up on the key rack beside the closet.

Ludwig finished the job of fetching the paper and came back inside. He completed breakfast, and with a sigh, realized that he had once again made too much food. It was something that he thought he'd broken the habit of doing.

Oh well. Leftovers would be alright.

Ludwig sat down to his paper and wondered when the silence throughout his house had become less than desirable and was no longer something that he craved. 

#

“Bastard, you're letting the cold in. Cover me back up with the blanket,” grumbled Lovino, reaching beside him with a clumsy hand.

He didn't open his eyes. Just continued to make noises of displeasure while he shivered. Why the hell had Gilbert removed the covers to begin with? 

When his further tired complaints went ignored, Lovino cracked open his eyelids.

And regretted it with every fibre of his being.

Dim light from the mostly shaded and hidden basement windows trickled into the room. A room that had a desk with an old computer; a fast-food joint paper cup, which was so faded that most of the colour was gone, sat beside it. The only new thing on the desk was Lovino's laptop.

The laundry hamper had two days worth of clothes in it. Lovino knew, because he had gone through that bin more times than his pathetic self could count. In the corner hung a wooden bird perch. It had been some time since a feathered creature stood upon it. 

A far outdated and comparatively giant cell phone sat next to Lovino's slim iPhone on the stand next to the bed.

Every one of Gilbert's possessions were in their proper spots, untouched. Lovino had his own clothing drawer and section of the dresser for his hygiene products.

The only thing that the room was lacking was Gilbert.

And it always would.

The blanket had fallen to the ground. 

Lovino reached over the side of the bed and grabbed it, covering his body which was even more cold than before. He bit his lower lip and tried to hold back the tears. It had been thirteen damned years and Lovino still woke up every now and again thinking that Gilbert was still around. 

He knew that he'd never get back to sleep at the rate his thoughts were swirling around his head and so he sat up, fists balled in the fabric around him. 

What he needed was a shower. Unfortunately the downstairs room didn't have such a luxury.

Which meant that he'd have to sneak upstairs and hope to avoid that potato-bastard.

Getting a towel from a rack that held a few poorly folded ones, Lovino headed for the stairs. He was so useless at mundane tasks like folding towels. Gilbert would have folded then with military precision. In his last years he may have been a tad lax on housework, but whenever he got his ass up and worked he completed his tasks to a nearly anal degree of perfection. Much like certain blond German who likely lingered somewhere upstairs.

Lovino was just about up the stairs when he heard the front door to the house open and the shrill and very familiar voice of a bubbly Italian.

“Oh hell no,” muttered Lovino quietly to himself as he heard Feliciano upstairs, “I do not want to deal with him right now. I hope he's not here for me.”

Though Lovino sort of doubted that Feliciano would be there for him. After Gilbert's death, Lovino hadn't spent any more time than required in his own home. It felt cold and empty there. He hadn't even had the energy to grow his beloved tomato plants, handing over their care to various neighbours in exchange to free pickings of the fruits.

Feliciano had tried to snap Lovino out of the depressive state that he'd been in (and still was to be honest), but nothing had worked. Everything that his brother did pissed Lovino off. How dare the younger nation feel so much happiness when the only source of love for Lovino had been cruelly snatched away by fate.

At first, Lovino had spent a lot of time in Spain. Once Antonio began dating the nation of Belgium though, Lovino felt like a third wheel much of the time. Antonio would insist that he wanted his little 'Lovinito' to spend time there. However those two spent way too much time making out in public and just about everywhere else. Lovino considered Antonio to be like an older brother, so seeing him eye-fuck Laura all the time made him nauseous. 

So Lovino had spent more and more time in Germany, squatting in Gilbert's room.

Lovino was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he had barely heard it. He did though.

“Ludwiiiiig! You of course know Mona right? She's Monaco.”

“Of course I do,” said Ludwig in his deep voice, sounding somehow like he had a giant stick up his ass.

Not that Lovino figured that was anything new. For crying out loud, the least a gentleman could do when in the presence of a beautiful lady was ask how she was.

Mona spoke in her strong french accent, “Hello Ludwig. How are you today?”

“Uh, I am good. Would two like a tea or something?”

Feliciano's voice penetrated the entire house with what he spoke next, “No, Mona and I were in the area on a date. We've been seeing each other for a while and now that we know it's true love, I wanted Ludwig to be the first to know since he's my best friend in the whole world.”

Everything was quiet after that on the potato-bastard's end and Lovino wondered exactly what was going on. Of course Feliciano blathered on and on about something or another for a while before the happy couple took their leave, letting the door close with a bang behind them.

Lovino decided that he'd waited at the top of the stairs for long enough and that there was no reason to hide. He needed a shower dammit and that was what he was going to do even if he had no idea what the potato-bastard was doing. 

He strutted out as if he owned the place, and not as if he was a guest who practically lived there. He didn't hear or see anything. Not at first at least.

Then, when he was almost at the stairs to the second floor, a peculiar sight came into view. 

There was Ludwig, the bulky nation sitting on a chair by the window. The blond had his head in his hands which rested on his lap. The man's shoulders were shaking and almost silent sobs drifted over to Lovino's ears.

Lovino was frozen to the spot. He had no idea what to do. Never had he expected to see the personification of Germany cry in such a way. Not in such an open manner. He'd heard noises from the man's bedroom after Gilbert had passed on of course. But he'd never actually seen the hulk of a potato cry.

Of course though, maybe it made sense in a way. Lovino had known for a while that the German bastard had loved his little brother. That was a major reason why Lovino hated the German so much. And to be honest, Lovino always thought that Feliciano would eventually return the potato-bastard's feelings as well. It was why Lovino had tried so hard to end their friendship.

Though Feliciano was also mostly straight and there wasn't really any way that somebody could mistake Ludwig for a woman, Lovino had been concerned anyway. Feliciano had once had a crush on the now dead Holy Roman Empire. So Lovino hadn't thought his concerns were too unfounded. Plus, Germans sucked in his opinion. Except for one, who was now gone forever.

He shook his thoughts out of his head and silently tip-toed from the room. He really didn't want to deal with the German. And besides, he hated the guy anyway.

#

Three days passed by since Feliciano had come by with the news that he was dating the personification of Monaco. Lovino was beginning to get really freaked out.

Normally he hated how obsessed with cleaning Ludwig was – unless of course the German was goaded into cleaning Lovino's room as he'd been one time by Feliciano. Ludwig was also very anal about schedules, even down to the most mundane thing, such as when he ate. Lovino always simply did whatever he felt like when he felt like it. Especially when it came to food. 

Yet since Feliciano left, Ludwig had appeared to be out of sorts. Lovino would wander upstairs to find dishes from breakfast sitting on the table. The coffee maker would have leftover coffee inside of it. The Counters were only halfheartedly scrubbed, still containing crumbs and the occasional smudge marring the usually sparkling granite counters.

In the living room there were beer bottles on the coffee table and the television was even left on sometimes.

Yes. Lovino was creeped the fuck out and he had no idea what to do about it.

At first he'd said, “It's not my fucking problem what the potato-bastard does or doesn't do with his time.”

And hour later when he'd seen a wet towel on the floor of the bathroom upstairs, “Why should I have to make the jerk go back to his obsessive ways?”

When he noticed that the refrigerator was nearly empty, “Sure I spend much of my time here, but it isn't as if I actually live here. I don't need to do anything.”

He looked outside into the back yard and saw Ludwig sitting on a bench, surrounded by his dogs and petting them while staring at the grass, “I don't feel bad for him at all. It isn't as if he's done anything for me.”

Except for collecting Lovino's dirty laundry and washing it. Letting Lovino stay there even though he could have, by all rights told him to get lost. The German would cook for Lovino, who had been wandering through life so numb that he remembered actually putting potatoes into his mouth and swallowing them without complaint. Ludwig would make Lovino get out of bed and shower and would always make sure that there were plenty of tissues around to absorb tears. He'd make the Italian get out of bed and do work and try to live life when it felt as if life wasn't worth living.

Dammit. Lovino didn't like owing anybody anything.

But in this case he felt as if he did.

#

The fresh air felt nice on his face and Ludwig was happy for the companionship of his dogs. They were very loyal friends. 

He threw a ball for Aster while Blackie chewed on a dental bone and Berlitz napped under the shade of a tree. Ludwig wondered briefly how long he'd been outside playing with the dogs before he realized that it didn't matter. He didn't feel like moving from the wooden bench that he'd had built beside his blooming autumn flowers. 

Even those didn't give him the same amount of joy as they often had in the past. 

The past, which had his bruder's obnoxious voice that he missed so much. The past, which had the potential for a romance with Feliciano. 

Ludwig had always thought that the bubbly Italian had harboured feelings for him. He supposed that he'd been wrong. 

His melancholy was shattered suddenly, falling to the ground and making way for slight irritation when he heard the caustic voice of Lovino ring out, “Hey Bastard, get your ass in here.”

Heaving a sigh, Ludwig said, “I'd really like to be left alone.”

“Well tough fucking luck, you're getting in here and putting on some decent fucking clothes. We're going to get some food, though I'm pretty sure all of the restaurants here suck.”

Slowly standing up, Ludwig scowled and fought as to how he should react. On one hand, Lovino was ordering him around in his own damn home. On the other hand, Lovino seemed to be asking Ludwig out to dinner. That was something that he hadn't seen coming. 

He decided to keep his expression neutral and see what happened from there. When he turned he saw that Lovino was wearing a black button up shirt under a brown suede blazer. The Italian was wearing dark blue, well fitting jeans. Ludwig wondered why he suddenly noticed how the other half of Italy looked. He mused that it was perhaps because of the sudden and odd request that had been made. 

“There are some very fine establishments in the city,” said Ludwig, feeling that deep seated need that all nations had, which that told him to defend the greatness of his home.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get a move on would you. I'd cook food here but you have shit all to eat,” said Lovino, crossing his arms over his chest and storming back into the house. 

Though he seriously considered declining the bizarre offer, he eventually thought the best of it. For whatever reason, Lovino was making some sort of non-aggressive gesture, and to turn it down would probably be akin to declaring war to the often hostile half-nation.

As Ludwig went upstairs to get dressed into something more appropriate, he wondered if he was making a mistake.

#

Lovino tapped the arm rest of the passenger side of the car, grumbling curses under his breath. He wished to all hell that he hadn't made the offer of dinner. 

“You drive like an old woman,” said Lovino, finally snapping at Ludwig, who was travelling at a speed that he knew in his mind was too slow.

The German's neck muscles tensed, “I'm driving the speed limit. Going faster would be against the law and could result in a fine.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, “Oh god. Seriously? I drive faster than this when I'm not even in a hurry.”

“Ja. I know how you Italians drive. That was why I insisted on taking my vehicle,” said Ludwig, leaning towards his steering wheel with thinned lips.

“Oh so now I can't drive? I'm a better driver than you any day of the week,” said Lovino, crossing his arms. 

“I highly doubt that,” grit out Ludwig.

“You know what? Fuck you! I don't care what you think anyway,” said Lovino, staring out the window on his side.

Nope. He didn't at all. He was only doing this so that they'd be even or some shit. 

“So why did you ask me to come to dinner with you?” said Ludwig, still with more bite to his words than usual.

“Because if you didn't eat you'd die and stink the house up with your rotting pile of muscles,” snapped Lovino, because telling the truth of his emotions was hard enough with the people he cared about, let alone the potato-bastard.

Ludwig took in a breath as if he were about to speak but then Lovino heard the air all whoosh out and the car came to a stop. 

They had arrived at the restaurant.

“What the hell is this place?” asked Lovino, genuinely curious but unable to keep his usual caustic tone from tainting his words.

“Feliciano says that the food here is pretty good. I take him here every so often,” said Ludwig, his words growing more and more soft until he whispered the end.

Shit fuck.

Lovino was reminded as to why he was doing this and got out of the car, “Well let's get in there and see huh?”

The atmosphere was actually rather pleasant with a soft, warm lighting and comfortable chairs. White painted wood panels covered most of the walls with brown wooden trim along the edges on the sides, bottom and top. The rest of the walls were made of grey stones of varying shapes and sizes. None of the waiters wore lederhosen and none of the women wore traditional dresses. 

Though if Lovino were to be honest with himself, those cute and high cut dresses the women wore could be pretty sexy. Of course they weren't as good looking as the woman from his country, but not many could compare anyway.

Lovino followed the waiter to their seat, near a crackling fireplace, but not too close as to get too hot. It was just right. 

The perfect place for romance. 

Ludwig was quick to open his menu as soon as they sat down, shoulders slumped and face hidden. How in the world had Lovino's stupid brother not seen the feelings Ludwig held for him. Feliciano could not have been that dense.

Lovino snorted and then muttered, “My brother really is an idiot.”

Peeking over the menu with furrowed brows, Ludwig said, “What?”

“My fratello is as thick as they come. An idiot,” said Lovino in as patronizing a tone as he could manage.

“Why do you say this all of a sudden?” asked Ludwig. 

“Because here you took him to romantic restaurants and did everything for him, and he still didn't understand how you felt about him,” said Lovino flippantly, forgetting momentarily that he was there to help Ludwig forget his feelings, not be reminded of them even more, “He's stupid.”

A flush of red crept across the German's face and he stared down at the table, “You shouldn't insult your sibling.”

“That's what you got out of what I just fucking said,” scoffed Lovino, crossing his arms over the menu still on the table, untouched, “And just why the hell shouldn't I? He's my fratello and I can do whatever I want.”

“Because at least your brother is still alive. Mine is buried and gone,” said Ludwig, looking back up and eyes narrowed. 

For a moment, Lovino wondered if Ludwig also changed the subject and snapped when he was uncomfortable about what was being said to him. However those thoughts didn't last for long when the impact of what the potato-bastard had said hit him.

“Yeah whatever,” said Lovino, slumping down into his chair and staring away, into the fire.

He'd hoped to get away from thinking of Prussia for a while. Gilbert had taken him out to restaurants during their years together as well. The silver haired nation hadn't often had the means to provide him lavish meals in the few restaurants that stayed up in East Berlin. Gilbert had been poor back then, but he'd given his everything to Lovino. He'd given everything, even when Lovino had told him that it wasn't necessary, usually with tonnes of cuss words. He had truly loved Lovino not just in spite of his flaws, but because of them. 

Lovino missed him so damn much.

He hadn't realized that he'd begun to cry until he felt a cloth napkin being held out for him.

“I am sorry, I shouldn't have said that,” said Ludwig, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, “I miss him as well.”

Snatching the cloth away, Lovino tried to wipe his face without everybody else in the building knowing that he'd just been crying. He eventually put the used fabric down on the table and sniffled. 

“Yeah well,” started Lovino, really not wanting to get into the topic of his dead lover, lest he burst into tears once more, “Just because I insult Feliciano doesn't mean that I hate him.”

“I've heard you say to his face that you hated him,” said Ludwig, putting down his menu and staring at Lovino as if he were a specimen to dissect.

“Just because I say that doesn't mean it's true,” said Lovino, picking up the menu and deciding to be the one who hid from sight, “God you're a moron.”

Eventually, after they ordered and sat in more silence, Ludwig once again spoke up, “So why did you take me here?”

Lovino mumbled his response and then took a sip of his wine. Thank heavens the place had Italian wine. 

“What was that? I missed your response,” said Ludwig after setting down his frosty glass of beer, topped with a thick head of froth. 

“Because I owe you for helping me so much after Gilbert died,” said Lovino, having to choke those last words down, the wine in his stomach churning.

“But it's been thirteen years. Why now?” said Ludwig.

Lovino rolled his eyes. 

Seriously, he was surrounded by morons. 

“Because I heard Feliciano introduce Monaco as his girlfriend. I heard you afterwards too,” said Lovino, hating having to say the words but somehow able to get them out. 

“So you pity me?” said Ludwig.

“No you bastard,” said Lovino, “Because I know what it's like to lose somebody, as we've previously gone over. Feliciano may not be dead but he's beyond your reach. You're never going to have him.”

“Oh,” muttered Ludwig, but somehow didn't appear as upset as he should have been upon hearing those words. 

“I don't like owing anybody anything. You helped me before, so I will help you now.”

#

Ludwig listened to Lovino explain that he doesn't like owing anybody anything. It was what he'd said before that got to Ludwig. Those frank words that at first, may seem uncaring, were actually what Ludwig had needed to hear. He'd needed to hear from another person's mouth, bluntly, that he would never have Feliciano.

It helped.

Lovino had helped.

Right afterwards, their food came, steaming and smelling wonderful.

Both of them were clearly not the type for heart to hearts, so they dug into their meals with relish. The food was fancy, but in plentiful portions and delicious. 

Part way through the food, he set his fork down and watched the Italian eat the chicken that he'd ordered. He ate with incredible manners, despite his brash attitude. Ludwig had never noticed how Lovino's face softened just a fraction when the taste hit his tongue. How the man savoured the food and seemed at ease. 

Ludwig wondered how much else he'd missed in Lovino.

Despite the Italian's claim to only be helping out for his own purposes, Ludwig wondered if there was more to it than that. More to the man himself.

For the first time, Ludwig decided to try to understand the Southern half of Italy, rather than the North.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness. Sorry for taking so long with this. I hope it makes sense. I've been sick as a dog forever and I realized that I just needed to write through my illness since it isn't going away. Haha! So I hope that this doesn't seem weird or anything. Or that there aren't glaring errors or typos. ^_^;;

With a happy sigh, Ludwig sat down on his couch, allowing his muscles to ease from hours of sitting on an uncomfortable office chair. He had his slippers on and a soft fleece sweater had been drawn over himself as soon as he'd stepped into his home. 

Grabbing his book from the side table, he opened it and was about to read it. However then his mind was brought back to the dinner that he'd had with Romano the previous night. 

The two of them had finished their dinner in a pleasant quiet. As they drove back to Ludwig's home, Lovino had still complained about the way that they had driven. He had still appeared to huff and puff and be irritated. Yet Ludwig wondered about that. How much did Lovino mean when it came to his complaining? 

Ludwig didn't know, but he expected that there had been more to it. 

When they'd gotten home, Lovino had darted away with some too quiet mumbles and gone into Prussia's old bedroom that was in the basement. Ludwig himself had been ready to retire for the night and yet, laying in bed, had felt that he missed having Feliciano sharing a bed with him. 

Sitting in the living room the very next day, a book on his lap, Ludwig wondered how Lovino dealt with it. 

Lovino had been in a relationship with the one that he'd shared a bed with. Ludwig only ever had a friendship with Feliciano. A one-sided love. 

Lovino had lost the love of his life. 

Before now, Ludwig had helped Lovino for a number of reasons.

Gilbert, on his death bed, had asked Ludwig to look out for Lovino. Of course, Ludwig did as he had been asked. Upon seeing how distraught the Italian had been, it hadn't been overly difficult to continue to help Lovino. As stern as Ludwig knew that he could come across as, he was not a monster. He wished to help a heartbroken individual. 

Feliciano, upon knowing how often his own sibling was spending in Germany, had also requested that Ludwig try to take care of Lovino. 

Now, however, Ludwig felt as if there was more to his own emotions.

He felt bad for Lovino. Felt a kinship that connected them in a way that was very real.

Upon coming home, Ludwig had seen Lovino's shoes still in their neat and tidy place on the shoe mat beside the door. They hadn't moved from the position that they'd been put into the night previous. 

Ludwig wondered if he should go and check on Lovino. 

Before he really thought out a course of action, he was already moving towards the basement stairs. He crept down the stairs, wincing at the creaks in some of them.

In years previous, when Prussia was still alive, Ludwig had tried to fix those steps several times. Gilbert would always do something to the stairs to put the creaks and squeaks back into them. Ludwig supposed that the former warrior wanted to have a way to hear somebody sneaking up on him. Whenever Ludwig went downstairs, even in the middle of the night when his bruder had been previously sleeping, Gilbert would be awake and staring at the door, sometimes palming a gun.

Since Gilbert's death, Ludwig hadn't quite had the heart to fix the steps. 

He opened the door and stared blinked into the dimness of the room. The curtains were drawn over the windows, that already didn't let a whole lot of light in to begin with. The bed was a mound, from under which came a soft snore. 

Ludwig stood awkwardly beside the bed and coughed. 

Lovino didn't move an inch. 

Ludwig reached down and shook the Italian.

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Lovino shrieked and leapt from the bed. Lovino proceeded to run around the room, wearing only a pair of too-tight black boxer briefs. Ludwig was about to shout for the Italian to cease the non-sense when Lovino stopped.

Grabbing one of the daggers that Gilbert always had laying around, Lovino turned around and hurled himself at Ludwig. 

Never one to be caught off guard, Ludwig grabbed the offending hand and yanked it away from himself. He then spun Lovino around and pinned him to the wall. Lovino's hazel eyes were blown wide and his chest was heaving, his entire body trembling.

Ludwig was suddenly very aware of their positions. Him pinning a nearly naked Italian to the wall, Lovino panting between them.

“Don't kill me! I'll do anything,” wailed Lovino, clenching his eyes shut and dropping his hold on the knife. 

“I won't hurt you. You attacked me, why?” asked Ludwig, only moving back a fraction, finding himself enjoying the close quarters, “You've never done that when I've tried to wake you up before.”

Lovino blinked several times before he realized who it was that was pinning him and mumbled, “None of your damn business.”

“I would think that it is, considering how close you came to stabbing me,” said Ludwig, not exactly telling the truth.

Lovino hadn't come that close to harming him at all. 

The small half-lie appeared to do the trick and Lovino looked to the ground with a grimace that almost looked more like a pout, “Nightmares.”

“Oh,” said Ludwig.

Then he realized his position once more and backed off, slowly letting go of the Italian, who hadn't seemed to realize his state of dress. Ludwig debated on whether he should mention Lovino's almost nudity or not. Would it cause Lovino to feel even more embarrassed to be reminded that he was hardly wearing a thing? Would he call Ludwig a pervert for noticing?

Ludwig kept his eyes firmly above Lovino's waist.

“Yeah. I've been around for a helluva lot longer than you have. I've seen shit,” said Lovino, crossing his arms and then realizing his chest was bare when his arms touched against his skin.

Eyes wide, Lovino scrambled around the room once more. This time it was to find a shirt and pants to slide on while yelling, “Turn around you perverted bastard.”

“I was not staring,” said Ludwig, blushing.

What was up with himself so suddenly? He didn't understand. It had taken years for him to understand his own feelings about Feliciano. This, however, could not possibly be anything other than platonic.

Ludwig realized that he had probably, simply hadn't let himself find sexual release via masturbation in a while. He had been either too busy or too upset to bother with such a task. Now he was placing those feelings of desire onto the, admittedly attractive, South Italy.

“Right, sure. Like I'd believe that,” said Lovino, throwing on some pants from the one single drawer he still kept in Prussia's old dresser, “So what the hell are you down here for anyway?”

Clearing his throat, Ludwig said, “I would like to know if you'd accompany me to buy groceries.”

Lovino blinked at Ludwig a few times, after he slid on an undershirt that probably cost more than half of all of the ones Ludwig owned. Then Lovino grabbed a button up shirt that hung in the closet and slid it on as well. 

The expression on Lovino's face went from a calm curiosity to one of annoyance in only a moment or two and the man said, “Of course you do. You Germans wouldn't know good food if it was right in front of you.”

After Lovino slipped on some socks that also looked really expensive, he began gesticulating with wide and expressive moves of his arms and hands and added, “Since I'm feeling generous, I will go to your grocery store and tell you exactly what to look for. The produce that you carry around the house sucks.”

Ludwig waited until Lovino went up the stairs to follow, “My food has been perfectly fine. I always received tips and hints from Feliciano on what to look for when it came to fruits and vegetables.”

“Pfft,” scoffed Lovino, “That idiot has hardly farmed a day in his life. He barely knows what truly fresh produce is like. I will tell you what to look for. You should take me to a farmer's market.”

“I thought that all you grew were tomatoes and grapes,” said Ludwig, hastily darting out his hand to the key rack, intercepting Lovino's attempt to grab for his own car keys, “I'll drive.”

He ignored Lovino's disgruntled curse of, “Stronzo.”

After grumbling to himself for a little bit, Lovino eventually answered, “Over the years I've farmed just about every kind of crop that will grow in my lands.

“Really?” said Ludwig, truly interested, as he pulled out onto the road, “You know. I also enjoy growing things. Though most of what I grow are flowers and various types of bushes.”

Lovino nodded and stared out the window. Ludwig wondered if he was imagining the faint blush that cropped up on Lovino's cheeks. 

“I've seen you gardening,” said Lovino, “Not that I was looking though. You're just always doing it so I couldn't help but see you doing it damn you.”

“You are welcome to join me outside when I work in my garden if you'd like,” said Ludwig, casting his gaze to the side and not really able to see Lovino's face.

#

Lovino didn't want to say what he was thinking because it mortified him.

What was on his mind was that Ludwig wasn't nearly as bad as Lovino had previously decided that he was. Really, anybody who could care for and nurture a plant couldn't be that bad in his own mind. Lovino had just never given Ludwig much thought before, beyond not wanting his little brother corrupted. 

Now that Feliciano was dating somebody else, or more specifically, not a man, Lovino's mind set free all of the thoughts that he'd previously had about Ludwig.

Mostly what came to mind was about Ludwig being a decent person.

Hell, the fact that Ludwig had made up the obvious excuse of needing groceries to lure Lovino out of the bedroom proved that he was a decent person. Lovino hadn't had plans to leave that room for at least another day. 

The problem?

Lovino had realized, when the two of them had come home from dinner the night previous, that he hadn't been out to eat with another person since Gilbert had been alive. The idea made him sad, yes, but also happy to have gotten out. Ludwig, of all people had made him happy.

It had felt like a betrayal of his loyalty to Gilbert. 

Though Lovino knew that it was ridiculous to expect himself to have only ever been happy with one person alone. Especially when one lived as long as a nation.

So why did Lovino still feel as if he had betrayed Gilbert?

He didn't know and this thoughts whirled until he fell into a nightmarish sleep.

He'd dreamt about himself and Gilbert. They'd been happy and together again. But then, in his dream, a cloaked, skeletal figure approached them, holding out a huge curved blade, glinting in the light of the moon. The creature had killed Gilbert and the spatters of blood sprayed onto Lovino. In the dream, when Lovino had moved to cradle his dying lover in his arms, Gilbert had whispered, “It's your fault.”

That had been when Ludwig woke Lovino up by shaking him, casting his looming shadow over him. Lovino's mind was still on his dream and he may have overreacted to Ludwig's presence. 

Now they were on their way to a grocery store and a farmer's market to look at food, which was something that Lovino really enjoyed doing. He'd been happy to receive that offer. 

However his mind was reeling with all of the thoughts inside of it, swirling around erratically and not allowing him any sort of peace. 

Back in the present moment, he grasped to remember what the last thing that Ludwig had said. Not that it mattered at all if Lovino answered him. He was just choosing to talk for his own purposes, not that he knew what those were anyway. 

Oh yeah. The last thing said had been about being outside with Ludwig when he gardened. 

Putting on a smirk that he didn't really feel, Lovino said, “I would only be outside with you if there were tomatoes or other vegetables to grow.”

“Alright,” said Ludwig, barely moving a single muscle.

“What?”

“I said that you can have some space to grow produce, if you'd like,” explained Ludwig, “Though I suppose, since it's autumn, you'll have to wait until next spring.”

Lovino agreed with a soft hum, which was the closest that he got to expressing happiness.

It wasn't until much later that he realized the significance of what he had agreed to.

Not until after he had spent an hour in the market and another half hour in the grocery store, explaining what foods to get and why. Lovino explained, half expecting Ludwig to get bored. Yet that never happened. Ludwig had remained attentive and almost looked as if he itched for a pad of paper to jot down his notes upon. 

They'd gone back home and Lovino had cooked up a quick linguine con vongole and a tomato salad. Lovino had been surprised at the freshness of the clams. Also, the tomatoes, while not Italian, weren't inedible. They were pretty good actually.

Lovino had even allowed Ludwig to make one of his German desserts, which he would never in a million years admit was really good. It was a chocolate cake, rich and succulent. Lovino had finished off his whole slice and leaned back in his seat with a pleasant sigh.

He loved to be full of tasty food. It put him into a good mood.

So it wasn't until much later that night, after his shower and once he was laying in the bed that he realized it.

Lovino had agreed to taking some gardening space from Ludwig come spring. That was months and months away.

Lovino had essentially admitted that he was planning on staying around for at least that long. Not only that, but the thought wasn't upsetting in the slightest.

It comforted Lovino in ways that he didn't know how to admit or even understand, to know that he had a place to call home that wasn't required in any way to have him there. Knowing that there was somebody there if he needed?

It was nice.

# 

Lovino had the nightmare again.

Of the visage of death, hovering over him, killing Gilbert and being accused by his lover. It all caused Lovino to wake up, covering his mouth with a loud slap to avoid the sound carrying. His entire body trembled and tears began to stream unnoticed down his hot cheeks.

The night still had it's hold on that part of the world and the only light by which Lovino could see was the dim glow of the phone that he held up.

It was only two in the morning and Lovino knew that he'd never get to sleep. As it was, he could hardly see the numbers on the phone's display through the blur of his tears. There was also the fear that the cloaked spectre of darkness was in the corners, behind him, everywhere. 

Why had these dreams started? Why now?

Lovino didn't know and hadn't ever been one to think deeply about the meaning of dreams. 

That didn't mean that they didn't terrify him. 

As he put the phone back onto the bedside table, something fell to the ground nearby.

He let out a high-pitched wail of fright and dashed up the stairs. Lovino didn't even think about where he was going before he found himself diving under the covers of another bed, one that was already warm.

His shrieks didn't abate until he felt a large and strong hand on his shoulder making tired sounds of soothing.

“There there,” said Ludwig in a way that would have sounded comically robotic if Lovino had been in the right state of mind to notice. 

“Save me! He's after me now!” cried Lovino, completely hidden under the blanket, screams muffled by the soft bed. 

“Who is after you?” asked Ludwig, the bed shifting as if he'd sat up but the hand staying on Lovino's back.

#

Ludwig had experience with calming down scared Italians and not just Feliciano.

There had been times, during that last World War, that Lovino had panicked and hidden behind Ludwig for protection. 

Mostly from France, but sometimes he'd done so from the other Allies. 

Still, Ludwig had always had to use physical reassurance to ground the smaller man, usually by rubbing his upper back or shoulders. It was a technique he'd learned by trial and error with Feliciano.

One learned fast when they had a squealing and terrified person on their hands who was so loud that it made one's ears hurt. It was either physical comfort or physical discipline. Ludwig hadn't ever had the heart to actually ever hit Feliciano back during the wars and hadn't had the urge to do so in decades. 

He found that he had even less of an urge to smack Lovino. Less so even than Feliciano.

Ludwig's attention was immediately drawn to Lovino when the smaller nation answered shakily, “Death. He wants to kill me like he killed Gilbert.”

The bed was vibrating from the force of Lovino's trembling. Ludwig took a deep breath and lay down on the bed, putting an arm around Lovino.

“I think it was a nightmare,” said Ludwig, hoping that Lovino wouldn't try to attack him from the overly familiar contact.

To his astonishment, Lovino wriggle closer and gave a loud sniffle, “I-I know that bastard.”

Apparently the Italian's usual defensiveness was back but not enough to stop him from seeking comfort. 

Ludwig didn't mind. He'd missed being close to somebody again and sharing his bed. 

He almost chuckled aloud at the thought. 

In years previous, he had hoped to have his bed to himself. Now he wanted somebody in it. It seemed that Ludwig was full of contradictions. 

“Tell anybody about this and die,” muttered Lovino, right before the man's breathing evened into sleep.

Ludwig did allow himself a soft and breathy laugh right then and drifted off to sleep himself.

#

Ludwig's internal clock eased him awake to the dim flutters of light from the rising sun. 

Slowly, over the years, he'd begun to wake up a tiny bit later. In past decades, he awoke while the night was still ending and the moon had the land in it's silvery grip. Ludwig, though still a soldier at heart, was no longer much of a soldier in reality. He no longer needed to wake before the sun and could afford himself an extra hour or two of sleep to ease the stresses of working. 

So he awoke well rested and warmly roasting under the quilts. Plastered to his side was somebody, but it couldn't have been Feliciano. The Northern Italian would take up most of the bed. His limbs would starfish every which way. Often Ludwig would wake up with an arm over his face, an elbow poking into his ribs, or a knee to the groin. Lovino, however, lay pleasantly curled on his side, head resting on Ludwig's chest. 

Ludwig realized that Lovino probably didn’t realize his position and would awake angry when he did. Therefore, Ludwig realized, with an emotion, that he scarcely recognized, that he would allow himself to lay in bed longer and enjoy the moment. 

He would take the time to analyze his feelings.

Was he just using the presence of Lovino to make up for the loss of Feliciano?

No, he realized.

Lovino had come to hate him less at just the right time to worm past Ludwig's own walls. Despite the loss of Feliciano in his life, Ludwig would be hard pressed to really see the two Italians as the same. The similarities were there, as seen in Lovino's mad dash to share a bed with a comforting body. However that was about where they ended. The two men were very different people but both had qualities that Ludwig enjoyed. 

He looked down at the mop of dark auburn hair and the single jutting curl that Ludwig knew better than to touch. One of Lovino's hands was curled up into Ludwig's black tank top. Slow snuffled of breath and grumbled came from Lovino as the man came around into wakefulness.

It was cute, Ludwig thought with wonder. He actually found that his feelings were possibly more than friendship towards Lovino. Perhaps his fondness had always extended towards South Italy. It would explain why he'd never found Lovino's attitude to be annoying, even when it had been clear the Lovino hated him at one point in time. 

“Gilbert, when you wake up, bring me some water will you?” said Lovino sleepily nuzzling Ludwig's chest.

Ludwig felt his heart drop from it's previous happy realization. 

Lovino didn't see him as a person to snuggle. He was just trying to replace Gilbert.

Ludwig heart ached once more but he still didn't move away from the soft warmth of the Italian beside him.


End file.
